Chapter 51: Do you have a dollar
Vivian Grey’s POV
Darkness.
But not the peaceful kind that let you drift off. No, this one was dense, unsettling, and full of buzzing sounds. There was a steady beeping somewhere to my left. Faint. Monotonous. But present enough to pull me toward consciousness. Something tugged at my arm, cool and tight. A needle, maybe. I didn’t know for sure.
My body felt light, like I was floating just above the bed, but my head was wrapped in a thick fog, making every thought sluggish and out of reach. The worst of it though was the dull, aching throb just below my ribs. It was the kind of pain that stayed after being punched, pulsing with each heartbeat. Not unbearable, but enough to remind me I was still here.
I took a slow, shaky breath through my nose.
The air was cold and sterile, laced with the sharp scent of antiseptic. But underneath that, something else. Familiar. Warm. Him.
Zaliver’s scent was everywhere, like a cocoon wrapped around me, dense and unmistakable. It wasn’t just a trace. It was the kind of presence that meant someone had been here for a long time, had sat close and stayed close, had breathed this air alongside me while I wasn’t conscious to know it. Comforting. Safe. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew he had been nearby.
Maybe he still was.
But this bed didn’t feel like ours.
I tried to reach for a memory, something solid to explain what had happened, but all I could grasp were bits and pieces. Zaliver’s voice, soft and worried. Something about a gift. But it wasn’t my birthday. I hadn’t done anything special lately. So why? And where was he now?
Wait. Traveling. I remembered now, he had to leave for something. But if he was supposed to be away, why was his scent here, fresh and potent like he’d just stepped out of the room?
Confused, I blinked slowly, dragging my heavy lids open. It took everything in me just to focus.
Lavender and soft jade. That’s what greeted me, the walls painted in those gentle, calming hues. Definitely not our room.
I sat up with effort, gritting my teeth as the motion sent a jolt of pain through my abdomen. My hands trembled slightly, and then it hit me, a flash of red. My blood. I remembered now. The vomiting. The collapse. I had been on the phone with Zaliver, and then everything went dark.
He must have heard me. Realized something was wrong.
He came back.
The guilt hit before the warmth did. Sharp and immediate, twisting in my chest. He had responsibilities, things to do, places to be, and I had made him turn around. I hadn’t asked him to. I would never have asked him to. But he had come back anyway, which meant he was out there somewhere in this building, probably having cut short whatever he’d been sent to handle, because of me.
I hated that. And I was grateful for it. Both at the same time, in that particular way that had become familiar when it came to Zaliver.
I sighed and looked down at my arm, scowling at the IV needle buried in my skin. No thanks. I reached over and tugged it out carefully, wincing as it came free. My throat was bone dry and my whole body felt like it had run a marathon. But oddly, I was also craving sugar. A very specific, almost childlike craving for something sweet. Something wrapped in plastic and loaded with preservatives.
I pushed myself off the bed. Every step was a battle, my legs trembling and uncertain. The robe I wore was thin, but it covered me well enough as I shuffled out of the room into the dim hallway. It was empty, quiet. I had no idea what time it was, but my stomach didn’t care. It wanted candy.
I followed the scent of sugar like a hound and found myself in front of a vending machine. The blinking lights. The shiny wrappers. Jackpot. I pressed my hand against the cool glass, eyes roaming over the choices, chocolate, gummies, even those little cakes with the suspiciously long shelf lives. My mouth watered.
But as I considered how to shake the thing down, an alarm blared overhead and red lights flashed across the ceiling. Loud thudding footsteps echoed down the corridor behind me, heavy and fast, but I barely reacted. Everything felt like I was viewing it through thick glass, muffled and distant. Like I was underwater.
"I wonder what happened," I murmured, not really expecting an answer. The vending machine was still my priority. I tilted my head, thinking I might be able to knock it from the side.
Then a presence. Big, looming, and familiar.
I turned my head and found myself looking up into wild black hair and a face that was far too pale.
Zaliver.
"Zaliver!" I said brightly, relief flooding me. My chest felt warm at the sight of him, but there was something else too, a strange urge, not quite instinct, just something primal whispering underneath my skin. Slippery and ungraspable.
He looked terrible. Worn out, sleepless, the shadows under his eyes dark and deep. His expression was a mix of anger, fear, and something more fragile that made my heart ache.
"Viv—" he started, voice cracking on my name.
"Do you have a dollar?" I blurted out before he could finish.
He blinked, stunned. I didn’t even wait for him to catch up to my train of thought. I stepped closer and gave him a little poke, ignoring how good he smelled. Earthy, warm, and sharp. It hit me straight in the chest.
"Hey, you got a dollar?" I asked again, tilting my head with a faint grin.
He still looked confused, like I’d short-circuited his brain. "W-What?"
"Do. You. Have. A dollar?" I repeated, slowly.
He gave a slow, dazed nod, his eyes never leaving me. He scanned every inch of my body like he was memorizing it, like he couldn’t quite believe I was standing there. I did the same to him. Same clothes from yesterday, or today, I wasn’t sure anymore. Time felt tangled.
But none of that mattered in that moment.
All I wanted was a damn chocolate bar.
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